Checkmate
by MyNameisWalter
Summary: <html><head></head>Walter hadn't expected his day to turn out this way. Now he and the rest of the team have to win before he can go home, but without knowing the rules of the game, is that even possible? Rated M to be safe.</html>
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Scorpion is the sole right of CBS and the real life Walter O'Brien. I own none of this.

It had taken them 15 seconds. At least, that's what Walter has calculated from the continuous loop of images and feelings running through his head. One second for a hand to clasp over his mouth and another to wrench his left arm behind his back. Another to press the taser to his neck and yet another to pull the trigger. Two seconds for the electricity to course through his body, rendering him immobile and pliant to whoever these people were so interested in him. Three seconds to lift him. Two to put him in the van and the remaining five seconds for the van to disappear from the CCTV footage Walter knows is sitting on his hard drive back at headquarters.

Fifteen seconds for Walter O'Brien to seemingly disappear.

Of course, he isn't really _gone, _just _taken._ Forced to sit in a damp, dark room with an iron cuff cutting into the skin around his ankle. His clothing rumpled and torn and bruises littering his lithe frame. He's lost control of himself, his body shivering despite the fact that he's told himself that he's not cold. His stomach dropping to sit around his knees even though he knows he's not scared. He's tired. He's hurt, but he knows Cabe and the rest of the team will find him. He has no reason to worry.

Except, of course, for the increasing visits from the people that took him.

...

Cabe Gallo is pissed and the longer he stares at the footage Walter's security cameras have picked up the angrier he gets. They'd given his man no chance, ambushing him from behind and incapacitating him in what looked to Cabe like no time at all. Even as brilliant as Walter is, there was no way out of that once they'd put their plan into motion.

Even as a kid Walter had shown a strength, a resilience, that most grown men would never achieve. He didn't like to show weakness and that these men had forced that weakness to the forefront was like a punch to the gut. If this is what they could do to Walter before having complete control of him, what was going to come of the man at their hands? How much of Walter would still be intact when they got him back. Cabe paces, digging out his phone to check for any updates from the men he'd put out on patrol.

Nothing.

Any miraculous message from Walter, somehow having managed to escape.

Negative.

Cursing, Cabe shoves his phone back into his pocket before turning to the computer and slamming the lid of that closed. He can only take so much of the scuffle being the only sound in the room. They'd all seen it enough to know every detail anyways, there was no point in torturing themselves with it.

"Hey," he grits out, three pairs of eyes raising from computer screens to stare at him. They're lost, all of them, working furiously for any clue as to where their leader is, and Cabe has nothing for them. "We will find him." His words are meaningless. He has nothing to back them up with, but they're enough. They comfort.

The door opens, attention immediately shifting from Gallo to the entry, hope palpable in the air. It's Paige.

"Find who?" she asks, voice still carefree for the moment; light and happy as she walks in, digging through her purse. No one answers her.

"Um, guys? Who are we finding? And where's Walter? Ralph sat in the computer lab during recess and now he wants to compare codes with him," she says, finally looking up from her purse. The smile melts from her face, color bleeding from her cheeks as she quickly assesses the tension in the room. "Cabe," she says, her voice stronger than she looks. "His car is here. Where is Walter." He hesitates before motioning her forward, to come stand next to him.

"Walter's been taken," he says, again motioning, for her to sit this time. "We don't know who took him, but we're working on it and we will get him back." She stares at him, her mind whirling with possibilities. Walter's abilities making him a prime asset. The whole team is a prime asset, but that this had actually happened to one of their own is hard to comprehend.

"I.. do we have anything? He has.. he has cameras. There's video of it, right?" She asks, looking around at the others. Toby's the only one to acknowledge her, giving a slight nod of his head to the computer in front of her. She opens it hastily, ignoring Cabe's warning to her and watches the footage silently a few time, a hand rising shakily to her mouth before she has to stop it as well. "Oh my God. Oh my God, Cabe," he says, her voice finally catching up to the shaking of her extremities, turning wide, terrified eyes to their handler.

...

His position has changed. The stinging of his ribs now making it impossible to curl up into the corner as he was before. They're not yet broken, but Walter's sure that one more good kick and they will be. And there will be another kick, of that he's sure. So far that's all they've felt the need to do. Incapacitate and then assault him, for one of many purposes, he knows, but they've yet to tell him which one.

"You know," he says, darting his tongue out to soothe the sting of his split lip. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what you want." The other man in the room doesn't turn to acknowledge him, still fiddling with whatever it is in front of him that Walter can't see. Sighing, he closes his eyes, resting his head back against the concrete wall. His eyes dart around the room for what has to be the hundredth time and he comes to the same conclusion he has every time before. There's no way out that he can access.

The man finally moves, standing from his spot and turning to walk towards where Walter's sitting. He finally sees what it is that he'd been messing with. It's nothing but a laptop, a single red light indicating that he's hooked it up to some web camera and is recording.

No, not recording. _Broadcasting. _


	2. Chapter 2

**The usual disclaimers still apply.**

….

Walter sat slumped in a corner, his head titled back and eyes trained on whoever was standing over him off screen. It was the first time anyone on the team, save for maybe Cabe, had ever seen Walter as small; vulnerable even. They each take a few seconds to examine their friend, coming to their own conclusions as to the state of him. Toby scribbles notes about his physical condition furiously. Sylvester calculates just how long it'll take for Walter to contract some kind of virus from the various mold spores he can see in the image. Happy devises some extremely painful and altogether permanent solutions for the people who are behind this and Cabe immediately gets on his phone to get some backup over there to help trace the email.

Paige just tilts her head in concern, worried more about Walter's emotional and mental state than anything else. She knows how Ralph deals with sudden and confusing changes in environment and she can't imagine that Walter handles it any better, no matter how much experience he has at it.

"Okay, here's what I've got," Toby says, interrupting all of their thoughts as he zooms in on the feed as much as he can. The pixels go haywire and he curses, zooming right back out again until they can once again see Walter clearly. "One. This camera sucks. Two, our friend Walter is favoring his ribs and left shoulder. Based on the fact that he's not wincing or breathing irregularly, as far as this feed allows us to see, we can assume the ribs aren't broken, just bruised. His shoulder is out of alignment somewhere, but I won't know where until he actually moves it more than he has already. Bruiser over there can't possibly be the leader of this endeavor. Unless, of course, he's stupid enough to let Walter memorize his features and then leave him with a camera connection in which to convey them to us. I'm guessing this is lackey number 2 or 3, but don't quote me on that."

"Well then what can I quote you on?" Cabe asks, his patience already at it's breaking point. "That he's hurt? Congratulations on making the same observation the rest of us did. You going to tell us he's not here next?" Toby starts to fire back, but Paige steps in between the two of them, placing calming hands on both of their shoulders.

"Guys, guys. Don't do this. We're all worried about him, okay?" she says, looking imploringly at each of them. "We cannot self-destruct right now. That's not going to do Walter any good." The two of them back off of each other, each conceding to Paige's point. They all need to work together on this, fighting this early in the game won't bring Walter back to them.

Toby turns back to the monitor in front of him, eyes searching for anything that might give them a clue about Walter's location. "As far as I can tell this video connection goes both ways, but there's no audio enabled. Happy, can you trace the IP address from the email and override their settings to get us access to a microphone? he asks. Happy's already seated at her computer having moved over there even before Toby's suggestion and is typing away furiously.

"Already on it. Whoever this is has no security set up on this PC," she says. "Unluckily for him that means I can have access to his network and computer in seconds. Unluckily for _us_ that doesn't help with a location unless I tap into the ISP server, which could go either way. I mean, I'm good, but I'm not Walter good. Just a few more seconds and.. there. We're live." She taps a few more keys and Toby's speakers come to life, spitting out a crackling of static before the connection adjusts and they're left with the quiet murmuring of whoever is in the room with their friend.

"Can they hear us?" Cabe asks, leaning over to brace his hands on Toby's desk.

"Indeed we can, Agent Gallo," a deep voice says. Everyone but Walter is out of frame, or mostly out of frame, smart enough to keep their faces away from the camera for the time being. "That was a very impressive time for your first test. Maybe your band of misfits is worth something after all, Mr. O'Brien," the unknown man says.

Walter scoffs, turning his face down and away and locking his jaw in anger. The condescension dripping from the man's tone sends flares of anger shooting down his spine to burn hotly in his stomach and he has to catch himself from biting back at the man about his observations.

"Now, now, Walter. There's no need to be like that." A hand forces his head back and he winces at the jolt to his neck, now forced to look into the eyes of his captor. "I was giving you a compliment."

"We don't want your compliments," Walter spits out, jerking his head to the side in the hopes of dislodging the hand gripping into his hair. "And I would appreciate you not manhandling me to your every whim. I think you've done that enough for today."

Laughter crackles through the speakers, causing Sylvester, who has been watching and worrying silently in the background, to shift uncomfortably.

"You don't seem to understand how this works," the man says, kneeling down in front of Walter with his back to the camera. Toby quickly jots down anything he can about the assailants appearance, what little of it he can see, as they continue to listen. "For the foreseeable future: I own you. I can talk to you however I like and whenever I'd like whether you want me to or not. If I want to touch you, I can," he explains, reaching out to grasp Walter again at the word touch, this time grabbing his chin in one meaty hand and shaking him a bit. "If I wanted to break every bone in your body and then sit and watch you writhe in agony, I can. I can do whatever I want to you and you would do well to learn that lesson now, Mr. O'Brien. I won't be lenient if you make me repeat myself." The man smirks, knowing that Walter's anti-obedience streak is going to get him in trouble. It was one of the reasons he'd picked Walter over the others, the thrill of seeing how long and far he could push him before the man would break.

"Now then, are we going to be a good boy?" he's asked, the hand gripping his face forcing him to nod for a second before he wrenches away, slapping at the man's arm to get him to let go. He's rewarded with a swift backhand across the face, his head snapping to the side with the force of it. He keeps his head down, working his jaw through the pain and lapping at the blood flowing from his lip. "Now you see what you made me do?" the man asks him and Walter looks up at him, flabbergasted, opening his mouth to give some other smart remark when they're interrupted.

"I don't know who the fuck you think you are but you are this close to having the full resources of the United States Government knocking down your door," Cabe's voice yells out over the laptop's speakers. The man stands, straightening his shirt quickly before turning back to stand in front of Walter, blocking his view of the screen. It's just as well, he supposed. At least this way they can't see him wince every time he takes a breath. This way he can't see the look on Paige's face when she looks at him. Or the anger in Happy's eyes. Or the tears in Sylvester's and know that he's the reason they're there.

"You're assuming that you can find my door, Agent Gallo. How's that working out for you?" Cabe grits his teeth, more anger than he's ever felt in his life coursing through his veins.

"I'm not playing games with you," he says, voice hard even as he knows that they have nothing.

"On the contrary," no name says, his voice holding too much glee for the team's liking. "That's exactly what we're doing and there's only one goal that you need to keep in mind.

Keep Walter O'Brien alive."

...

**A/N: **I'm sure there are some typos and grammatical errors in this chapter, but I'm just too tired to go over it properly tonight. I'll probably comb through it tomorrow sometime, so don't be surprised if some things change that I might not be 100% happy with. Special shout out to Kits for pointing out my incorrect use of "access" versus "assess" in the first chapter. I do appreciate it.

There are still some POV changes in this story, but I hope that they flowed well enough with the action that it's not choppy and weird. If it is please just let me know and I will gladly fix it. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and favorited/followed this story. It means so much and I'm so glad that our Cyclone is ever growing! Until next time you guys!


	3. Chapter 3

**The usual disclaimers still apply.**

….

They all stare blankly at the dark screen in front of them, waiting with baited breath for the video to come back. The feed had cut out immediately following the man's chilling words to them and now there they stood, slack jawed for the few precious moments it's taking them to process what they've seen.

Cabe shakes himself out of his stupor first, barking orders the moment he does so. "Happy, get that video back up now. I want a secure connection that we can control. We're not going to sit around and wait for them to let us see Walter. Toby, keep an eye on that monitor. The second it's back, I want to know about it. Sylvester, I need you to map out a radius of where they could have taken him in the amount of time he's been missing. This is a hell of a set up for him to be too far away from us. Paige," he says, grabbing her arm and leading her away from the group a ways. "How is he?" He looks into her face, and he looks older to her, somehow. Aged in a way that only worry will do.

"He's terrified," she says, remembering the look in her friend's eyes right before the camera had cut out. Happy scoffs, cutting into their conversation from across the room.

"That's impossible. Walter doesn't get scared," she says, typing furiously at the computer in front of her. Paige frowns at her, shaking her head.

"He doesn't know how to _process_ being scared. He doesn't understand what that means. Just because he doesn't know what he's feeling though, that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it," she explains, glancing at each member of the team in turn. "We're all scared right now. We may mask it as anger or determination but at the end of the day we're terrified of not getting him back."

Cabe stares at her for a moment before nodding decisively. "Then let's get him back."

….

Walter hadn't been expecting the man to cut the video feed so soon. What was the point of even establishing a connection if it wasn't going to be a continuous one. His thoughts must show on his face, because as soon as the man, and he really wishes he had a name for him already, turns around he chuckles, clicking his tongue at him.

"For someone who has no emotions, you sure do wear your heart on your sleeve, Mr. O'Brien," he's told, the man once again crouching in front of him. Walter chooses not to respond, keeping his eyes glued to the camera set up on the other side of the room. He knows it's just a matter of time for that little red light to blink back into existence. All he has to do is wait.

"You're not going to make this easy on yourself are you? It's no matter to me, but you may want to think twice about not responding when someone talks to you. I don't take kindly to being ignored."

Walter finally glances at him, his face blank but his eyes as hard as steel. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"Now, Walter. Do you honestly think I'm going to be stupid enough to give you my name? You're not the only genius in this room, boy," the man says, shaking his head at Walter condescendingly. Knowing that this would be the response he'd most likely get, Walter takes a moment to once again study the man in front of him, coming up with a few choice names of his own as he meticulously catalogues any defining features to share with the team later on. Light hair, carefully groomed but thin and wispy. Piercing blue eyes and a scar just below his hairline. Nothing more sticks out, his arms and chest covered by the long sleeved dress shirt he's wearing. A business man, perhaps.

"Although," the man says, interrupting Walter's thought process as he scratches at his chin, thoughtfully. "I suppose it would only be polite to give you something to call me. You'll have to scream something in the coming weeks, after all," he says. "For now you can call me Jay."

Jay stands, straightening his shirt and dusting off his pants before turning back to the camera. "No more questions now, our audience has returned."

"You didn't tell me what it is you want with me," Walter says. Looking back at the camera he notes that the red light has indeed come back on and feels a surge of pride at how quickly his team gained control of the feed.

Stopping, Jay looks back down at him from over his shoulder, lips curling into a wicked smile. "I want to have fun, Mr. O'Brien. Watching you suffer as I do so? That's just icing on the cake."

….

"I've got video back," Happy calls out a second before Toby could. He watches the exchange on the screen carefully, searching for any kind of clue as to Walter's whereabouts. He doesn't miss the slight flinch at the man's words or the way his friend ducks his head for a moment as the man turns back to face the camera. Paige is right. Walter's scared and he doesn't know how to handle it.

A slow clap emerges from the speakers, the team having finally gathered around him fully.

"Well done, Team Scorpion," the man says and Toby wishes he could punch the smugness from his voice. "You got that back up faster than I had anticipated. Perhaps I underestimated you. No worries, though, I'll make sure not to make that mistake again."

"Oh, no, please continue to do so. It makes our job that much easier," Happy says, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. She's had enough of this guy talking down to them. Add that to the anger she's already harboring over her friend's state and she's about ready to crawl through the computer and beat the shit out of this guy. Aside from the way he'd been affected by Mark when he'd been a part of the group, Happy had never seen Walter as anything less that strong and stoic. Sure, he wasn't the manliest of guys out there, but there was just something about him that made Scorpion feel like home. There was a piece of them missing without him there and she was damned determined to do everything in her power to put them back together.

"As enticing as that sounds, Ms. Quinn, consider this a lesson learned. It gets much harder from here on out," the man says and Happy has to stifle a growl, having to turn and walk away before she smashes something important. Paige watches her go, having learned that it's best to let Happy work through her feelings before confronting her. Instead she focuses her attention back on the computer in front of her, not wanting to miss anything.

"Now then. As creative as the names I'm sure you've come up with for me are, Walter has informed me that it's impolite to not give you something to refer to me as during our little game," he says, turning back to Walter for a moment. "What was it we decided on, Walter?" he asks him.

Walter turns his head away again and Cabe winces, wishing the kid would just cooperate for a second so he doesn't get hurt any worse than he already is. It's wishful thinking, he knows, since Walter is too stubborn for his own good, but maybe just this once he'll be on the same wave length.

"Walter," the man says, a warning in his tone. "What is my name?"

….

Walter sighs, clenching his jaw and turning back towards the camera, his eyes hard in the dim lighting. "Jay," he says, to the delight of the man in front of him, who grins down at him, teeth gleaming. Walter adds that to his mental list. Perfect teeth.

"Precisely, and before you get on all of your fancy equipment and think that has something to do with my legal name, think again," Jay says, reaching one hand up to presumably tap against his temple, not that they could see that. "I'm too smart to do that."

Walter frowns as this is said, his brows furrowing when he sees Jay's other hand tapping nervously against his pant leg. It's a tell, he knows, indicative of a lie, but why give them his real name?

"Congratulations, Walter, your team has earned you a reprieve," Jay says, once again turning to crouch down in front of him. A hand reaches steadily towards his face and Walter fights with himself not to turn away or break his gaze, which is holding Jay's intensely. He doesn't want to give this man anymore power over him. The mind games stop now.

Chuckling, Jay stops just short of Walter's cheek, amusement dancing in his eyes and on his lips. He nods, once, and pulls back, standing and walking towards the door, Walter following his every move.

"You all have a nice chat now," he says, opening the door and walking through it, turning back just before it closes. "Don't talk too badly about me. I'm always listening."

...

**A/N: **So this isn't actually the entire chapter that I had planned, but it felt like a good place to end it. Again, it's late and I'm tired and don't be surprised if things change with the flow later on in the week. Thank you to everyone who's been looking out for me grammar wise, I truly appreciate it.

Hopefully there'll be some more Sylvester soon. I'm having a hard time finding his voice in my head, so that's why he's been so quiet. Also, I'm trying to pinpoint voices and characteristics of everyone, so that's why it goes back and forth between thoughts and POV's so often. I'll get that straightened out soon, I hope.

Oh, one request that I do have, if you guys would be so kind. If you notice any tense changes (past/present) or if I'm switching from 1st to 3rd person a lot, can you please let me know? Thank you!


End file.
